One Year Later
by Jae Bee
Summary: Just a little prattle about life after fan fiction.


JB POV (I had to type it…freaking had to) 

Hello old friends,

It's been a year since I've posted my final chapter of my final fan fiction story. That makes four years since I started my first, I'm His Lobster. It seems like ages longer in some ways, and just yesterday in others.

It's been a wild year. A couple of months after my final posting, I started a new job as a receptionist. I absolutely love it. The work itself is interesting and surprisingly challenging. The people are the biggest surprise. I've never been a career oriented person. Especially once I knew I would be a writer, I figured whatever day job I got would be just a paycheck. Who knew jobs were still out there that feel like home and have some terrific people? I sure as shit didn't.

Not long after finding the job, everything else began falling into place. I've met friends I don't know how I haven't known for years. They just fit perfectly in my life. And through one of those friends, I met the man I've been with for seven months now. After a long time of waiting, being with him has made me think "ah there he is." I'm having the time of my life with him.

In August I moved into my own apartment. I call it Whitfields, and would live out my days here, if I didn't have other dreams of course. It's a modest studio, but at the same time charming and magical. It suits me to the ground.

We lost my grandmother in April. She was one of my pillars, always supporting everything I did. My being a writer always seemed to excite her. I feel like in some ways my life is just getting started, but I don't think she's missing it. She's watching, and probably having a blast with a cocktail.

There have been so many changes this year, and yet I feel like one of the biggest parts of my life is stuck.

Writing was such a huge part of my life for three years. Before that too of course, but with my fan fictions, it was a daily routine. It was always on my mind. Even when I didn't post, I was writing or thinking out plots and twists. One of the very first story banners that was made for me had a quote of my choosing that said "I'm waiting for my reality to be better than the imaginary, and until then my writing consumes me." At the time that quote perfectly fed my ticked off lonely self. Writing was not only a way to help others escape, but a way for me to trot off to another world when my own annoyed me. Now I read that quote and it sounds like a curse. Because my reality is in so many ways better for anything I imagined for myself. But now that it is, my writing does not consume me. I went and got a life, and now can't seem to find time leftover. I mean sure, I was always busy when I was posting for three years. College-job search-family-bills-friends. A lot went on in that time frame. But I still always found some leftover for my stories. Maybe I needed it more then, I don't know. It was certainly easier though.

It's not just finding the time that's difficult now. It's finding the words. Three years of posting on this site, and I can count the amount of times I had writers block on one hand. But now, damn. Writers block is my roommate. I started my novel weeks after finishing We Are Breaking Dawn. It was a plot I had in my mind since junior high. I was so excited to start. I found buildings that inspired me, I researched, I took pictures, I did all the things I always do to "start the mood." But it just didn't feel right. I wrote, sure. But I didn't like what came out. It all sounded too forced and nothing like me. I told myself it was because I shouldn't have transitioned from fan fiction to full on novel. I should start with something simpler and shorter first. But then again, the short story I published on amazon certainly isn't my favorite. I don't do short stories. I have too much to type for that.

So I think what I need to do is just grit my teeth and fucking write. I miss it so much some days. And some of those days I'm worried I peaked on this site. What if this was the best I could do? On those days, the ones where I find myself wanting to write something so bad my fingers twitch….I think about posting on here again. Story ideas come into my head and I nearly end up convincing myself to do it. But I pull back. Because it would be a copout. This site was a wonderful chapter, pun intended, of my life. I wouldn't change a bit of it. Well….maybe I'd edit more. Have someone teach me grammar. Hell, I'm sure even this update will have errors in it. And maybe I'd dial back some of the cheese. I mean really, what was I thinking with a title like I'm Running Away So You Can Make Me Whole. Yikes. But still, I love how I finished last year, and I don't have a single regret when I look at my twelve stories. And I know they are all complete. I told the stories I was meant to, and it's more than past time for me to move on from it. I just have to do it. I have to find a way to make the time and make the words. I need to.

And it's not just writing I miss. It's having readers. I think part of my hesitation is knowing whatever I write here on in, won't be read and reviewed every step of the way again. Part of that is ego. Writers thrive on their work being enjoyed. It's why I do it. I want to provide and escape for people. I hope I'm able to do that again. But I know where my first readers are. You're all here, and I'm always going to be thankful to you, and the readers who four years later now, are still finding these stories. I hope you are all well and if any of you ever want to message me, I'm still here. For advice on writing, life, or hell, anything any of you need from me, I'm there. You guys kept me going, and I'm going to make you proud to say you once read a Jae Bee story.

Til next December 31st,

-Jaimey Strauch


End file.
